And! I Murdered My Poem

Another of my poems died today,

Lost in the realm of errands,

Of cleaning the floors of,

God’s heaven,

‘Shine it till you see thou face,’

I became lost into the,

Vastness of mayhem,

That never seems to end,

Yet, I swirled and so did my,

Long flowing attire,

Swaying to the rhythm of my,

Limbs, soon I stood wet into,

My own ocean,

And the waves of mediocre,

Came and salted away one of,

My poems from me,

So I woke up that night,

And murdered all the prose,

The poems breathing inside me,

And threw the carcass,

Of those into an alley,

And now time could not,

Cheat me any longer,

It kept searching my soul,

To find those verses,

But couldn’t!

I was the alchemist,

Of my own blasphemy,

So I took one carcass

Of my poem, at a time,

Resting in the darkness,

Of that part of my house,

Where none trod a foot,

They said, they heard guffaws,

Seldom the weeps, the sighs,

And moans of a woman,

Who remained invisible!

To their eyes,

They were all my stories,

My poems murdered by me,

And kept for safer time to,

Be resurrected, I put the flesh,

I put the blood, and soon,

They were those characters,

Who breathed!

Into an outside world,

And with the dusk hanging,

Silently on my balustrade,

Shadowing half of the earth,

It fell over my face,

Awakening seldom those,

Murdered verses and stories,

There was something in that,

Silence outside that made a stir,

And made me sit and write,

One poem that night,

Ah! I sighed at last one of,

Them was saved to be taken,

To that god’s house,

Who sits above and watch,

And one to be kept on earth,

For the shenanigans,

To know who was the murderer?

~Monalisa Joshi~

                                                            Image Source: Pinterest